


Will You Remember Me?

by winter_writer15



Category: MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multi, Natasha Romanov Feels, Other, POV Natasha Romanov, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Canon, Protective Natasha Romanov, Sad bitches, Secret Relationship, Short One Shot, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 10:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_writer15/pseuds/winter_writer15
Summary: Thanos has been and gone, leaving the world in ruins. Now Natasha Romanoff must die and the Black Widow must take control if there's any hope of bringing everyone back, one Witch in particular.





	Will You Remember Me?

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is just a little one-shot about Nat would have done after Wanda died in IW, it's kinda sad so strap tf in bois

864482.

That’s how many seconds it had been since.

Ten days. Ten days since dust and dirt.

Sometimes she could still feel the tears on her cheeks, the rawness of her throat as she screamed, the nausea in her gut as she saw her friend disappear into thin air right in front of her eyes.

Sam Wilson had only been 36 years old.

Then again, everyone had lost someone, looked at someone straight in the eye as they became nothingness. Her experience wasn’t unique.

So, she washed her face, took a breath and shoved everything down, down down down just like she knew how. Wiping her emotion from her eyes and destroying Natasha Romanoff forever – the Black Widow was all who remained.

_I have no place in the world._

-

She couldn’t stay in Wakanda, not after what she’d watched there. She left in the middle of the night, a small backpack the only possession to her name as she slowly but surely travelled back to America, back home where she thought she would finally feel safe again. The world was in turmoil of course, chaos and violence ruled the streets. If you weren’t locked in your home then you were out with a gun or a crowbar ready to smash store windows and take what you like, what was stopping you? Authority meant nothing anymore. There were obviously men who would jump out at her from behind a trashcan brandishing a knife, ready to cut her throat if it meant it would make him feel something again. They never got the chance. She shot them all dead.

There was no sun anymore. The dust in the air had blocked it out and left the world in perpetual dusk. Many likened it to 1980, when St Helen’s erupted and filled the air with ash, but this was different, instead of volcanic matter, people were breathing in the remains of their loved ones.

The Black Widow’s lungs were filled with Sam and Nick and Maria, Princess Shuri and King T’Challa, Barnes and god knows how many more, they hadn’t heard from everyone yet.

Then there was Wanda Maximoff, the ‘Scarlet Witch’, she was dead too.

Everyone was dead.

-

_“I have to leave soon.” The brunette muttered, her soft hair resting on the redhead’s bare chest, both of them lying contently underneath the sheets that had become strewn across their intertwined legs._

_“I know.” Was all the redhead said in return, her fingers dancing lazily on the brunette’s shoulder, the warmth radiating off her skin as the sunrays began to hit. A strand of brown hair was beginning to tickle the tip of her nose but she didn’t mind, she didn’t want to move her._

_“I’ll be back soon, a few weeks maybe.” She linked her own fingers with those grazing her shoulder and held them tight, just a few seconds later she felt a warm, wet mouth pressing a kiss on the back of her hand._

_“Too long.” The redhead muttered as her lips moved away from the woman’s hand and kissed the top of her head._

_“You always dote on me when I’m about to leave.” You could hear the brunette’s smile in her voice as she turned her head away from the window and rested her chin on the other woman’s chest._

_“That’s because I don’t appreciate what I have until I’m about to lose it.” Running her finger’s through the hair on the glowing girls head she smirked, noticing the rolling eyes of her lover._

_“How romantic.” She chuckled, lifting her head and swinging her legs over the edge of their bed, a cold breeze suddenly brushing over the redhead’s chest._

_“If you think I’m so romantic maybe you should stay.” She tried her luck, raising an eyebrow at the girl dressing across from her, who grinned in return._

_“You know I would if I could Natasha.”_

_-_

The farm was dead.

It had taken her nearly a month to make it there, bribing pilots and stealing any car with gas in it, but as she placed her foot on the familiar gravel she almost wondered if her journey had been in vain. The barn doors had been broken open – probably people stealing the animals for themselves, the screen door was unlocked, even swung ajar a little. Something wasn’t right.

Quietly, she pulled the pistol from her boot, a simple Glock 26, she liked the grip better than the 26C. She never had the safety on so cocking it immediately was an automatic reaction, creeping up the steps and along the porch she snuck a peak in the windows, the building looked empty, desolate even, the Black Widow couldn’t tell if this was a positive sign or a negative one. Although the screen door was unlocked, the front door itself was firmly shut forcing her to kick the door open, God she was lucky he used cheep thin wood when he made it as it opened after one kick.

“Clint? Laura?” She asked, her voice travelling through the empty home, her eyes flickering from side to side, cautious that she was not the first intruder into the Barton residence.

She called their names again and heard no answer. After ensuring the ground floor was clear the Black Widow carefully made her way up the staircase, almost tripping over one of Cooper’s trucks on the seventh step, that damn kid never did clean up after himself. There was definitely a smell, a smell she knew very well, it was the only smell she didn’t want to be in the home of her family.

Methodically, she made her way from room to room, searching for any sign of life, but all the evidence implied that nothing had been touched in at least a month. Making her way towards the master bedroom, her heart dropped to her stomach as thee scent only grew stronger the closer she got.

She didn’t know if she was thankful or not that there was only one body. The fact that Laura had clearly taken her own life meant only one thing, Cooper and Lila were dead.

-

Laura Barton was buried in her garden, a couple of meters from her family’s barn. It was tough, unforgiving work that lasted long into the night but the Black Widow did it nonetheless. It’s what she owed Laura, what Laura would have wanted, to be where her children played forever.

She stood there for a moment, her eyes beginning to glaze over as she stared at the lump of dirt in front of her feet.

Dead was dead though and she didn’t let her tears fall. Laura was just another in a long line of people who were gone because of Thanos, if she still believed she had a heart she was sure it would have broken for the Barton family.

She slept on the sofa, her pistol underneath her pillow in case of an emergency, but no such emergency came that night. It was one of the few nights that she was able to get over four hours of sleep and she woke up to the sunrise feeling more refreshed than she had a long time. There was a time that she would have sat on the porch and watched the golden light flood the farm, but sunrises only made her sad now, at least she thought it was sadness, she wasn’t quite sure.

The shower water ran over her face as she turned her head upwards to feel the cool on her skin. The hot water had been shut off, only mild or cold now, she had always taken cold showers anyway…unless they were with-

“No.” She murmured to herself through the trickles over her lips, shaking her head slightly as if it would shake the thought of her out of her brain. Squeezing her eyes tightly together to stop the shampoo from entering her eyes, her vision was suddenly flooded with images, her ears with sound.

Sun hitting her cheeks. Her mouth on her neck. _I love you_. The brushing of fingertips. The battlefield. The look on Steve’s face as he sat in the leaves. _She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. Natasha she’s gone._

Jerking backwards and slamming her head on the tiles behind her eyes flew open expecting to see the disintegrating body of Wilson again, but he wasn’t there, all that she could see was the water streaming into her eyes and now, making it hard for her to breathe. Scrambling to turn off the water, she began to feel the throbbing in her head and a sharp pain spread across her skull. Reaching her hand back she touched the tender spot gently, pulling it away to see the vivid scarlet blood on her fingertips.

-

_“Nat sit still! Stop twitching.” She laughed, holding the bandage and a sewing kit in both hands as she prepared to play doctor on the other woman’s newly sliced thigh. The scarlet blood dripping onto the floor below as the redhead wriggled around in her chair with gritted teeth._

_“I’m telling you it’s fine. Just through a band aid on it and I’ll be right as rain.” The Black Widow had already dug the shrapnel out herself back in Iraq, stuff like this happened to her all the time, overreacting was an understatement._

_“I can almost see your bone.” She replied, an unimpressed look painted on that pretty face of hers, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at the place looking woman across from her._

_“Maybe you could just kiss me better.” A wink was all it took before lips were quickly being placed on the Black Widow’s forehead before they abandoned her skin once more._

-

Nobody tells you how to prepare for the apocalypse. Sure, you have the conspiracy nuts that buy fallout shelters and stock up on cans of tinned goods but nobody tells you what it feels like to know that your home is doomed, that everyone you have ever loved is either dead in the ground or too damaged to carry on. Normal grieving is one thing, someone you care about dies and you know that the world will keep on turning and that eventually, you will feel better. This was different because the Black Widow really didn’t know if the world would continue to turn on its axis, there was no more sun which meant no plants could thrive as well as they did before, the dust in the sky even blocked out the moon at night which resulted in shorter days and still waves.

She remembered the day Natasha Romanoff finally went back to Russia. It was after shield collapsed and Rodgers and Wilson were off chasing down a ghost and after everything Natasha had thought to be true had turned out to be an elaborate lie, she needed closure. Her parents were dead of course, she couldn’t find out how but she assumed the KGB had murdered them to take her. She had searched desperately for them, clinging onto the glimmer of hope that they were still alive, but like many things in Natasha’s life, it was a disappointment.

They had been buried just outside of Stalingrad, just a mile or two away from he small house in which Natasha Romanoff had experienced her only vivid memory of them. It was the sound of her mother laughing as her father throwing her high into the air before quickly catching her again, making her giggle uncontrollably. She couldn’t remember their faces, she must have only been around four years old when she was taken after all.

She had pulled some wildflowers from the dirt beside them and left the bunch in between the two graves. She didn’t cry, no use crying over someone you barely knew anyway, but her heart told her that she missed them and so she kissed her fingers and placed them on their names.

прощание.

_Goodbye._


End file.
